


A Vaster, Slower Ocean

by uniqueinalltheworld



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dancing, Drabble Collection, Fluff, M/M, Rating May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-06-05 14:49:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6709297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uniqueinalltheworld/pseuds/uniqueinalltheworld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Nothing is truly stable when one is in love. Hours become seconds and the once-solid continents a vaster, slower ocean."</p><p>A drabble collection about Dorian and the Iron Bull falling in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Can I Have This

Qunari don’t really go in for slow dancing. Or, well, partnered dancing of any kind. There’s line dancing, and other big celebratory sorts of things you do in groups, and there’s also the big warrior training deal where you memorize a set of steps to prove your military fitness. But, nothing in partners. And definitely nothing where you don't already know the moves. 

They'd been doing fine so far, dancing in the courtyard. Josephine had called it undignified, but Vivienne of all people had simply told her that one celebrated in this manner when one was victorious in Ferelden and swept her into the fray, pulling Dorian in as well. 

Dorian might have training in dance, but he certainly didn't know any of the steps popular in Fereldan square dancing. Bull could see him subtly watching Sera and Josephine for cues, though he never actually appeared to be behind when a new motion was called, his delay imperceptible to anyone who wasn’t watching closely. 

Bull hadn't dared approach Dorian months ago in Halamshiral. It was too formal, too steeped in ritual. For all that the ball had been entirely Orlesian, it was too Vinty. And they hadn’t been anything to one another then, anyways. Just comrades in arms. 

Now they were comrades in arms who fucked, and there was a square dance in the Skyhold courtyard. 

Bull joined as well, a half song and three person's distance between him and Dorian. It alarmed him, how much he had wanted to simply step in after the mage. The way he had to hold himself back. It was like battle, he supposed, in its way. He was conditioned to follow Dorian's motions just a half beat behind. 

He had been conditioned to do a lot of things, though, and he couldn't recall yearning for any of them. Not like he had when Dorian's yellow silk robes had swirled into the excited throng. 

Dorian was laughing, somewhere. Bull could hear him over the drums and fiddles dragged out from the tavern for just this occasion. Saw him, for a brief moment during a turn, his head thrown back and his face shining in the light of the newly healed sky. Bull wanted to kiss him, then. 

He threw himself back into the music instead, completing the spin and taking the inquisitor’s hand. Her hand was quickly traded for Josie’s, Vivienne’s, Blackwall’s, as the music reached a fever pitch. Bull had to bend in half to link elbows with Dagna when instructed. The song went on and on, all of them a seething mass of interconnected bodies, a unified whole. Except that Bull never lost track of where Dorian was. Except that even when he couldn’t see him, he could feel his presence like the warmth of a campfire, welcome but so very dangerous when unchecked. Except the music stopped and a new song began. 

Then Dorian was there before him, sweating and breathing hard and wasn’t it a little funny how they’d both managed to stay alive. The next song was a slow one, a partner dance. Dagna had slipped her arm from Bull’s when he wasn’t paying attention, was headed for Sera. Blackwall and Lavellan were already curled into a shuffling embrace. Dorian just stared at him, furling and unfurling his empty hand. Bull took it, his eyes never leaving Dorian’s face. Perhaps, he thought, it was time to learn a few new steps.


	2. What if I Said

Dorian looked a bit like he’d just been charged by a bogfisher. Bull honestly couldn’t blame him. “I’m sorry?” he said. 

“I—look, it’s stupid. I just—never mind.” 

“Bull,” Dorian began.

“I said ‘never mind,’ okay, Vint? I’ve already dropped it. Sorry to make you uncomfortable bringing it up.” 

“Bull I—“ 

Bull heaved himself out of his chair and left for his room before Dorian could say anything more. Once there, he shut the door and let out a slow breath. He had… miscalculated was the kindest word he could come up with. “Been an idiot” was closer to the truth. Dorian, beautiful, violent Dorian, was one of the most forthcoming men that Bull knew. If he’d felt—well, Bull wasn’t sure what he was feeling qualified as just “lust” anymore—but if Dorian had felt like this, he would have spoken up. Dorian had abandoned his seat in a noble house, his wealth, and the (shitty) country that he loved in order to be able to tell people how he felt about them. He wasn’t some swooning damsel waiting for Bull to speak up first. 

Bull removed his brace with a grunt, feeling sore without even having done more than training today. He threw his hand axe into his headboard, glaring at it when it crashed into the wall instead. He’d probably have to sharpen it in the morning. 

There was a soft knock at his door. “Bull?” 

Bull groaned. “Go away, Dorian.” 

“Bull do you intend to act like a preteen girl all night?” 

Bull flopped onto his bed.

“Maker. Bull, did you actually just fling yourself onto your bed like a melodramatic child?”

“No,” Bull lied.

“May I come in?” Dorian asked. 

Bull shrugged, even though he knew Dorian had no way of seeing it. “Door’s open.” 

“May I come in?” Dorian repeated. 

Bull wanted Dorian in his room, in his space. Wanted him to despair of Bull’s chipped headboard and his dresser full of ugly pants. Bull wanted it so much it hurt. So much the thought of actually having it, even if it was just for a moment, just long enough to be let down gently, frightened him. “Do what you want, Vint.” 

Dorian sighed and pushed open the door, closing it once more behind him. Bull pulled his head up to see Dorian standing in the middle of his room, frowning at him. 

“After your…admission,” Bull put his head back down and moaned into his covers, but Dorian ignored him. “After your admission, you didn’t give me very much time to speak.”

“I’m not really in the mood to be let down gently here, Vint,” Bull growled. “Just say what you have to say and get out.”

“What I was going to say,” Dorian told him, “is that I have no intention of letting you down gently.” 

Bull looked up at Dorian, who was looking at him like—like—

“I thought it might be nice to kiss you now, if you don’t mind,” Dorian said, flushing a bit. “That is, unless you really did want me to forget it in which case I’ll—“

Bull was off his bed and grabbing Dorian’s wrist in a flash. “Are you sure about this?” he asked softly. He didn’t think he could bear it if Dorian wasn’t certain.

“No, no,” Dorian said dryly, “it’s stupid. Just forget it.” And he pulled Bull in for a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Say hi to U at [Eugenideswalksintoabar](http://eugenideswalksintoabar.tumblr.com) and A at [Acheesecakewrites](http://acheesecakewrites.tumblr.com)


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